


Blade Runner 2049

by sillyboyblue



Category: Blade Runner 2049 (2017)
Genre: Gen, hypothetic fanfiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-09-11 09:20:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8973931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sillyboyblue/pseuds/sillyboyblue
Summary: A guess on what Blade Runner 2049 could be.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Vanfu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vanfu/gifts).



The world had become a terrifying place. Too many problems that had been ignored for too much time had mixed up to form the world K lived in.

The Off-World colonies had been a foolish dream wiped away in the blink of an eye. Even replicants could not beat every threat.

Every aspect of the world was fucked up. The head of the Tyrell Corporation, Dr. Eldon Tyrell's nephew, created replicants far superior to the once revolutionary Nexus 6. The Voight-Kampff test was obsolete.

Blade Runner units were dismantled one by one. There was no way to tell a human and a replicant apart anymore. The magic -- what Deckard had -- was almost gone. It took more than a feeling to tell whether you were going to kill a human or retire a replicant. 

The old blade runners were all gone. Harry Bryant's liver finally gave in. David Holden died in the hospital. Gaff was killed on the line of duty shortly after Rick Deckard disappeared without a trace for K to follow.


	2. Chapter 2

"Did you ever tell someone ?"

Rick Deckard was sitting at the piano, staring at where there used to be pictures and music sheets on the one he had in his former apartment. His wrinkled fingers brushed against the dusty keys without hitting any.

"Rachael ? Anyone ?"

K was sitting in the worn armchair yet he looked ready to jump out of it at any instant.

Deckard did not take his eyes off the piano keys, as if they were actually the ones talking to him.

"Never."

Deckard's dog was sitting at his feet. Its clever eyes were fixed on K, as if the animal was trying to figure him out. 

"Why not ?"

Deckard looked tired. The fatigue of people who have lived for too long. His index hit one of the piano's black keys. 

"I don't know."

The dog was still as a statue. It was an old beagle that had lost most of its sight and hearing. There was a medal on his frayed collar that read "Buster".

"Tell me about it."

Deckard let out a sigh. This young man broke into his home already, and now he was trying to break into his memories, at least what was left of them. As he gave no answer, K added :

"Tell me about him."


End file.
